Sometimes when he leans in to kiss her
She swears she can feel some sort of memory
Too fuzzy to make out
Yet to apparent to ignore
Some days she's attracted to it like a moth to a flame
Other days she's terrified
But she needs it for some reason she can't comprehend
That fuzzy glimpse of emotion she had long forgotten
Dances across her lips like smoke
When she thinks she can almost comprehend
Whatever that memory means
She loses her thought in the daze of emotion
The light around her disappears
She sinks into the darkness and begs for salvation
And he kisses her again
She's lost in the wilderness of her own mind
That remote feeling washing over her
Dousing her in gasoline and lighting her up
But the burns are her addiction
The third degree of the memory is all she can hope for
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